


Ain't My Fault

by thelastolympian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Discord: HMS Harmony, F/M, Head Boy Harry Potter, Head Girl Hermione Granger, James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Live, Quidditch Player Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastolympian/pseuds/thelastolympian
Summary: After seven years of tension building up, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger face each other after the last quidditch game of the season. The consequences? Harry says he can't be responsible. After all, it ain't his fault.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 90





	Ain't My Fault

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the most amazing beta in the world, sonofahorcrux.  
> Check out my other works -- "If Cupid Had a Heart" (WIP) and "I'll Bring Back Your Love In Seven Days" (Complete).

The school was buzzing. Waves of red, gold, green, and silver were making their way from the Quidditch pitch, as the final match of the season between Gryffindor and Slytherin concluded with a smashing victory by the lions. 

To say that the den was in full party mode would be an understatement. The star of the celebration, however, wasn’t feeling it. He was feeling so dejected, that not even the pack of girls quietly fighting over him was enough for his ego. 

Captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team? _Check_. 

O’s on more than a half of his NEWT’s? _Check._

Girls fighting for a place in his bed? _Check._

Hermione Granger giving him two sickles of her attention? _Error 404._

The witch had been a constant presence in his life since September 1st of 1991. It had been muted between them at first, – not enemies, but not really friends either. They had just lived in the same school and shared classes together. Things had started to change, however, at the end of their first year. 

The Weasley twins had decided to place a bet on the Top Student of the Year, an award that Minerva McGonagall, headmistress of the _Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft,_ had instated just a year prior to their arrival. 

_1991?_ _Harry Potter._

_1992? Hermione Granger._

_1993? Harry Potter._

_1994? Hermione Granger._

_1995? Hermione Granger._

It had been quickly accepted within the school that the first and second place always went to them--they were constantly struggling for that top spot. Hermione and Harry were undoubtedly the best students of their year, and every year it was quite a furious competition to see who would finish on top. 

Until 1994, it had been a healthy competition and first place had teetered back and forth, with everyone in the castle seemed to understand that they were evenly matched. When Hermione won in 1995 for the first time in a row, Harry had asked her out. 

She’d accepted, but had never shown up to the actual date. He’d decided to approach her in the library, asking what had happened and if she was okay. 

When he’d walked – cough, been kicked out, cough – out of Madam Pince's sacred place, he’d wanted to blow something up. Apparently, the witch had been under the impression that he’d failed the last _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ assignment on purpose to give her the award. 

And there was nothing that Hermione Granger loathed more than pity, moreso when it was all part of a bigger scheme to ask her out. 

Ok, he may or may not have come up with a plan to go out with her on the next Hogsmeade weekend, but that plan had been hatched _after_ he’d failed the exam. He hadn’t done it on purpose. That test had cost him not only a library ban after screaming that it wasn’t his fault during the argument with the witch. It had also cost him a chance at romance and the civility they’d shared between them. 

1996 had been a year full of innuendos, smirks, glares and fights. In the end, he’d managed to win the damn award, but it was too late. Hermione had just started to go out with Anthony Goldstein, and the boy had quickly become Harry’s nemesis _in and out_ of the Quidditch field during 1997. 

_Ah, 1997._

When Harry had received the letter informing him of his Head Boy privileges, which included a private common room with the Head Girl, it seemed like Christmas had arrived early. 

But she’d still been dating the Goldstein prick, and since Harry hadn’t been seeing anyone seriously since the middle of fifth year, his elation had quickly dissipated. A late night conversation with his father made him forget about the idea of dating Hannah Abott just to see if Hermione would react, but he’d hooked up occasionally with other witches, if only to get her out of his mind. 

It didn’t work. It never did.

During the Easter break he’d given up and decided that this situation with Hermione would end, one way or another. He would stop seeing any girls until the end of the Quidditch season, and if she wasn’t in his arms by the end of the night, he would give up on her. 

She didn’t know about any of this, of course. But he’d diligently followed his resolution, until that point. She had broken up with the blond prick around the same time during the break, but her demeanor still hadn’t changed. 

Now it was almost midnight and Hermione Granger was nowhere to be found at the party. A part of him wrenched inside, not really ready to give her up after such a long time. Irrational, he knew. But the heart wants what it wants. 

The raven haired wizard stood up and started to bid his goodbyes, excusing himself with the excuse that he was too tired and had important family business early the next morning at Gringott’s. 

_Bullshit_. 

He just needed a bottle of firewhiskey to polish off by himself in their private common room. Considering his luck, he’d be off moping alone as Hermione Granger probably snogged the daylights out of her ex-boyfriend. 

When he finally arrived at said common room, it was forty minutes later than what he previously expected. 

“Finally. I thought you’d make me wait the whole night, Potter.” The voice of Hermione Granger rang in his ears and he blinked twice to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing. 

The witch that he’d perused for years was wearing his quidditch jersey ( _how?_ ) and seemingly nothing else underneath as she stood in the middle of their common room. 

“What the f-“

“Don’t finish that sentence. Are you coming or not?” She quirked an eyebrow at him and his pulse went directly to the lower parts of his body. 

He came out of his stupor and quickly strode in her direction, his heart beating faster with each step. If this was a prank he would be sure to kill anyone who was involved. 

“What is the meaning behind this? If this is some sort of joke-“

“Look, Potter-“

“Will you let me finish a sentence at least once in my life?” His voice rose up and he clenched his fists as he felt a pull in his magic towards her. He was so tempted to just follow her lead on this, but he needed to get this out.

“I spent years being put aside by you and I decided that I’ve had enough. I promised myself that I’d wait until today and then I would give you up. But if you think that I’m going to kiss you just for some bet or something, I won’t. Unfortunately, I care way too much about you.”

“What bet?” 

“This is clearly some sort of set up, isn’t it? You ignored me as much as possible the whole year and then I walk in on you in one of my jerseys in the middle of our common room. I’m not going to fall for your tricks.” 

Hermione watched with wide eyes as he flushed and finally voiced what he had locked up for so long.

“Worst ice breaker ever.” Hermione muttered to herself. 

“What did you just say?” He asked in disbelief and dropped into the chair right in front of her, his piercing green gaze doing funny things to her insides. 

“Okay, okay!” She huffed. “I like you, Potter. Satisfied? I didn’t want to but, unfortunately, I can’t seem to override the feeling, so yeah, I _like_ you. A lot.” 

“I don’t even know when I started to like you, but I was too scared. Scared of you playing games with my heart, of it all just being a distraction to my priorities – because I care. When I like someone, I do it with all my heart.”

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but she stood up and held her head high, continuing with her rant. 

“When I broke up with Anthony,” he snorted and she made a face. “As I was saying, when I broke up with Anthony, I realized that I couldn’t run away anymore. But I got scared again, scared of getting hurt and having all the beliefs that I had about you shattered. So I decided to wait, trying to find the right moment to make a move and, well… here I am.”

“I was waiting here because I thought you’d change for the party like you do every time, but you didn’t come up. And I kept waiting, and waiting and… I was about to head to my room when you stormed in.” 

“Katie’s mom made shirts for the whole team, that’s why I didn’t come up sooner.” 

An awkward silence fell between them as Harry scrutinized her expression, while Hermione looked unsettled for the first time in years. 

“Uh, we can pretend this never happened if you like but…” 

“No.”

“Sorry?” She asked, a confused look on her face.

He didn’t remember moving, but suddenly she was right in front of him, so close her scent filled his head until he couldn’t think of anything except her. “After all of this, I can’t be responsible for another wasted opportunity, Granger,” he whispered in her ear, making shivers run down through her body and smirking against her skin with her reaction. “I have been pining over you for Godric knows how long. Now sit on my fucking lap, because i’m going to kiss you.” He eased back into the chair he’d been occupying during her rant, looking up at her with those piercing green eyes she couldn’t seem to forget.

Hermione Granger wasn’t the type of girl to be bossed around. In fact, she was the bossy one. 

Maybe it was the fact that they have been dancing around each other for this long, but her legs acted for themselves, entangling in his while she sat on his lap.

“Well?” a fire roared to life in her when she felt his erection pressing against her thighs. Their faces were inches apart when he directed his hand into her hair, bringing her lips closer to his. 

The kiss wasn’t gentle, but it felt _so_ right. Sometime during the kiss, Hermione began to move in his lap, deepening the kiss and making Harry groan into her mouth. 

“You’re going to kill me, witch,” he groaned as he started to kiss her jawline, descending to the crook in her neck. 

“ _Fuck. Why_ didn’t we do this sooner?” She gasped, moving her head to give him better access.

Harry sucked the pulse point on her neck and she trembled in his lap, digging her nails into his back. 

Her moan went straight through his spine while he explored her body, intent on marking her as his. Finally his. 

“I wanted to. The delay is all on you, witch. It ain’t my fault.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hi! I'm sorry if this felt a bit rushed, but it was supposed to be a drabble that exceeded the number of words. The 'sit on my lap because i'm going to kiss you' is something that happened irl, as crazy as it seems. So don't kill me for that, please. Inspired by Zara Larsson -- Ain't My Fault and written to celebrate the HMS Harmony Discord achieving 2k members! Join in at hhriscanonbitches.com to talk about all things Harmony.


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